Every Girl Does It(3)

Defeated, I turn around to see who had said my name and noticed an attractive firemen walking my way. Now I’m curious, but I see the ex-boyfriend slowly look my way as well. Oh no. This is not good. Doing what I do best, I smile at Mr. Hot-Fireman, and say, “Hi.”

“You don’t remember me, do you?” The deep voice sent shivers up my spine; it was like melted chocolate. The ex-boyfriend has a crazed look in his eyes and suddenly sprints toward me and Mr. Fireman. Next thing I know, Derek, still snot faced and angry, is on top of the fireman throwing punches Ultimate Fighter style at the back of his head.

“Derek! Get off of him, what are you doing?”

“I’ll fight for you, Amanda! Don’t worry! I love you!” Insert more crazy snot induced sobs here. Men.

The poor hot fireman didn’t even know what hit him. Lucky for him he was still wearing his helmet which blocked part of the blow from Derek. The unfortunate part was, although it did block the hit from Derek, the blow sent the hat flying off of the fireman’s head into the giant cake, sending the bride, yet again, into hysterics and judgmental looks my way. I feel the need to shout, This is not my fault!

Derek is finally thrown off of the fireman, and I escort him outside amidst the entire town shaking their heads in disapproval. Thanks for the help guys! No one even bothered to get up from their seats, rude.

“Derek, what the heck are you doing?” He shoves his, now I realize, small hands into his pockets and sniffs, “Well, I just thought maybe since things didn’t go well, you know, today, that we could try again.”

Oh my goodness. This cannot be happening. He is actually serious. This is not his joking face. Is he drunk? He must be drunk off communion wine. It’s the only explanation I can come up with at this point.

“Derek,” I try my stern voice, hoping he’ll get the hint without me having to slap him across the face. I don’t like criers. His tears must stop now. They must stop, I tell you! Okay, calm down and tell him how it is. “You’re an idiot.”

Maybe that was too harsh, make it better. “So, please stop crying! I won’t try again with you when there was nothing to try in the first place. You took me as a date to your best friend’s wedding, then tried to ditch me to hook up with the bride. And now that it didn’t work out as you planned, you want to try with me?” The shrillness of my voice was elevating, and getting louder, but I couldn’t control myself. Tremulously, I try to reclaim some shreds of dignity, so I add, “I’ll have you know there are guys who would kill for an opportunity to date me!” What, just because they aren’t lining up doesn’t mean it’s not true. “How dare you think you can have a second chance with me. You're lucky you had a first.” My fists are clenched so tightly against my sides, I know if I breathe one more word I’ll release them all over his face.

The sobbing baby turns suddenly into a little monster and retorts, “Well, that’s not what I hear. Did you know they had to bribe me to even go out with you? I would be doing you a favor!”

Where did that come from? Where is ‘Mr. I Cry All the Time and Have Feelings Too’ man? My mouth drops open as I’m rendered speechless. Then out of nowhere – like a flash of lightning – Mr. Fireman storms up to us and punches Derek in the nose.

“What?” I yell at the strange, hot man and I lean down to see if Derek is okay. Wow, this guy is going to need therapy after today.

“He’s an idiot,” the fireman states as he rubs his large hands. Not even a scratch from that hit. Nice.

The claim is valid; there’s no way to argue that point. Nice to know I’m not the only sane one here at the wedding.

“Thanks,” I manage to mutter as I meet the craziest green eyes I’ve ever seen in my entire life. Oh good, the room is spinning now. Perfect. Maybe I’ll pass out on top of Derek, looking all kinds of inappropriate. The mayor would love that.

“You’re welcome, Amanda.” Mr. Fireman grins cleverly before he turns around and walks back into the church.

“Who is that?” Derek is still pathetically whimpering on the ground. I feel like kicking him, but I’m not the violent type. I’m outside, so it’s easy to make an escape. I'm sure not going to wait around. On the way home, I keep wondering about Mr. Mystery Fireman. He looked so familiar. Do I know him? How does he know my name? Our town of Nampa, Idaho isn’t very large, we only boast enough people for two high schools. Then again, he could have easily gone to school somewhere in Boise or Meridian. But he was definitely a Nampa fireman.

****

Google is wonderful; which could be construed as stalking, but my curiosity is eating me alive. Yes! Found it, Nampa Firehouse, click.

Oh be still my rapidly beating heart. They have a calendar for a suggested donation of only ten dollars! Plus, it’s for charity! Who wouldn’t buy the calendar? Of course, he’s Mr. December. Merry Christmas, Amanda. My strict Nazarene grandma is probably rolling in her grave, not that I didn’t give her enough reasons to be in that grave while she was living. What with my dancing and going to movies. She was a dear, sweet lady who I’m thankful now, is with her Lord. I’m silently praying to God that He is the only one who can actually hear my thoughts. Amen. And, girls, if you can see this, A-M-E-N.

You could do laundry on his abs. Is he airbrushed? How can abs look this way? His chest is perfectly chiseled, like God cut him out of a mountain. Those green eyes aren’t even his best feature. His hair is so thick and glossy, it should have its own Facebook page, and I would easily be the number one fan.